


The Naked Truth

by foggys_cupcake_girl



Category: The Batman (Movie 2021)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Chubby Oswald Cobblepot, Colin Farrell Penguin, Established Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Oswald Cobblepot in a crop top, Paul Dano Riddler, Self-Esteem Issues, but Oswald Cobblepot is not, the criminal elite of Gotham are amused, thirsty Edward Ngyma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27762151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl
Summary: Edward decides to play a fun, would-be sexy prank on his boyfriend.Oswald is not amused.(The Joker, Catwoman, and the rest of them, on the other hand...they are very, VERY amused.)
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 13
Kudos: 44





	The Naked Truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redreaper86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redreaper86/gifts).



> Taking a crack at Riddlebird for the lovely redreaper86, who may or may not be partly at fault for getting me into this pairing ;)
> 
> The rest of the fault, of course, goes to Colin Farrell and Paul Dano. God bless fandom, where we're writing fic for a movie that hasn't even come out yet because we're all so thirsty for the actors lol. ;P

Oswald Cobblepot is not in a good mood.

Not like that’s unusual. But this morning he’s in an especially bad mood, clutching his coat around him and glaring at anyone who came too close as he storms through the Iceberg Lounge and into the VIP room where he has, unfortunately, invited some of the criminal top brass of Gotham for a very important brainstorming session.

Today’s topic? How to kill the Justice League. Which suits him just fine. He is very much in the mood to take someone out.

He stalks into the VIP lounge and slams the door behind him. Joker, Falcone, Riddler, Scarecrow, Lex Luthor, and Catwoman are all there, eyeing him with interest. “Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Falcone asks, raising his eyebrows.

“None of your beeswax,” Oswald snaps. Riddler giggles. Oswald glares at him. “So. I was thinking we’d work out how to get the Justice League out of the way once and for all, you guys all good with that?”

“I call Batman,” Joker says immediately. “I’ve got just the way to do it this time, too. We’re gonna take a giant cannon, see, and—”

“Do whatever you need to do,” Oswald cuts him off. He doesn’t think what the Joker’s planning will actually _work,_ but he’s pretty sure he can help pick up the pieces. (Literally, if that cannon works.)

Luthor pipes up, “I can get my hands on some Kryptonite. I’ll take care of Superman. Not sure he actually _can_ be killed, but I’ll do my best. Would you settle for him being tied up in a kryptonite-infused cell for the rest of his miserable life?”

“Works for me,” Oswald agrees. “Now, as for the annoying merman—”

“Hey, Ozzie,” Riddler cuts in, his lips quirking into a familiar smile, “whatcha still wearing you coat for? It’s not like it’s cold in here.”

Oswald shoots him a _don’t mess with me_ look and clears his throat. “So, as I was saying. Aquaman. I was thinking we could use lightning or heat to get him—”

“Seriously,” Riddler interrupts again, and this time he sounds like he’s barely keeping himself from laughing, “why don’t you take off that big coat of yours and sit down, stay a while?”

“If you don’t shut up there will be consequences,” Oswald warns him, clutching the coat more tightly around him. “Now, if we can get enough firepower—”

“Consider it done,” Falcone says with a grin. “Flamethrowers or grenade launchers? My weapons suppliers can get it for us.”

 _“I’m_ your weapons supplier,” Luthor reminds him with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, like I said.”

“Excellent. Now, the pesty little speedster—we don’t kill him.”

“Oh really.” Catwoman raises her eyebrows, intrigued. “And why not?”

“No real reason. He’s a cute little twink, I wanna keep him,” Oswald says, with a pointed look at Riddler. Riddler pouts, but doesn’t say anything. He’s fiddling with his cane, however, and Oswald knows him well enough to know that means trouble.

“What about Xena, Warrior Princess?” suggests Catwoman with a knowing smile. “Can we keep her too? She’s too pretty to kill. And I hear she’s into girls.”

“You mean Wonder Woman? Yeah, if you want her she’s all yours,” Oswald says carelessly. “We could keep them both here, if you want. Your new pet and mine. Trot them out when we’re bored, show off in the club…use them to vent some frustration after a long day…”

Riddler is openly sulking now, still playing with the cane, and before Oswald can keep going, he has to dodge an electrical blast. He yelps and dives behind the nearest armchair, which singes as it’s hit with the electricity. “Are you out of your mind?” he hisses as he straightens up.

“You’re the one talking about cheating on me with the Flash,” Riddler snaps, and then suddenly bursts into a fit of giggles.

“Wha—oh _shit.”_ Oswald scrambles to close his coat, only to find that a big flap of it has been burned away by stray electricity. Damn it.

When he woke up this morning, he was quite dismayed to find every single one of his shirts had been hidden or stolen, and of course he didn’t have time to stop at his tailor to replace them, so. No choice but to put on the shirt that had been very prominently laid out for him: a bright purple sleeveless crop top.

He is going to _murder_ his boyfriend the minute they’re alone. Well. He would, except knowing Edward, he’d probably enjoy that.

Scarecrow, who has been mostly quiet up to now, gives him a cool, appraising look. “Is this some type of self-esteem-building exercise?” he says. “Because I must say it’s an odd time for it.”

“It’s laundry day,” Oswald snaps. Flustered now, he tries to get back his train of thought. “So—all right, how are we going to capture our new playthings then, if we aren’t going to kill them?”

“I’d offer a few ideas,” Joker says, not bothering to hide his snickers, “but I’m afraid I’m coming up _short.”_

Falcone lets out an inelegant snort of laughter. “Good one, kid.”

Joker preens a little. “Thank you!”

Riddler can barely keep himself on his chair, he’s giggling so hard. “Well, go on, Ozzie. Don’t let us _cut you off.”_

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Oswald growls. “Can we please take this seriously?” He crosses his arms over his belly. “I think we should start with brute force and move into psychological torture, if we’re able to get in their heads we should—”

“Come out on _top?”_ Luthor says, and that time all of them giggle, even, curse him, the fucking Scarecrow.

Oswald glares at all of them in turn. “So to get rid of the Cyborg I was thinking we could get a hacker to scramble him up, but he’s essentially a human supercomputer. We’d have to get the best hacker, someone who’s really—”

“The cream of the _crop?”_ Catwoman suggests, and that’s it, the whole room breaks into hysterical laughter, and okay, that’s _really_ it, Oswald has had enough.

He thinks he ought to get a medal for not killing everyone in the room, honestly. It’s ultimately only the knowledge that it’s _them,_ people he ostensibly likes and wants to have on his side—plus, frankly, the fact that he’s outnumbered six to one—that keeps him from grabbing his umbrella and unleashing hell.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says icily when the laughter dies down, “I have better things to do than play around with a bunch of _children._ We’ll reconvene when you all feel up to acting your age.”

He stalks out, ignoring the apologies and shouts for him to come back, and angrily storms through the streets of Gotham to get home, glaring and shoving anyone who gets in his way.

Batman lands in front of him about two blocks from his house. “I’m here to take you in for interrogation,” he growls, “suspicious happenings have cropped up in your neighborhood and—”

Without a word Oswald rears back and punches him hard in that perfect mouth. “Not in the mood, Batsy,” he snaps, and steps over the very surprised bat and strolls along without looking back.

~

When Edward gets home twenty minutes later, he leaves his cane at the door. An olive branch, perhaps, though Oswald is too pissed off to appreciate it.

He’s torn the house apart in his search for his actual clothes and, when he couldn’t find them, he settled for breaking the mirrors in the master bedroom. Well. He didn’t set _out_ to do that, exactly, just flipped the full length mirror so hard it shattered. The crash was so satisfying he did it to the other mirrors too, so when Edward comes up, he’s greeted with the sight of broken glass, upended furniture, and a very irritated boyfriend.

Oswald sees red when Edward comes in the room. “Where the hell are my clothes?” he demands.

Edward holds up his hands in a _no harm, no foul_ gesture. “Easy, Ozzie. No need to fly off the handle.”

“Are you kidding me? After you just humiliated me in front of every single one of our allies?”

“That wasn’t the idea,” Edward protests.

Oswald flings himself down on the bed like a pissed-off teenage girl and tries to curl up, but his knees don’t even come close to pulling up enough to hide the swell of his belly. “I hate you,” he grumbles, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest instead.

Edward sighs and delicately picks his way through the mess on the floor, deftly avoiding broken glass and scattered socks, to settle down besides his grumpy, pouting boyfriend. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you,” he says bracingly, and gently plucks the pillow out of Oswald’s hands.

“Yeah? Then what the hell were you trying to do?” Oswald grumps, sitting up and crossing his arms in an effort to hide his stomach. He knows it’s pointless, it’s nothing Edward hasn’t seen or felt before, but…well. There’s a reason he keeps the lights off when they fool around.

“You weren’t meant to sneak in there all wrapped up like a Central Park flasher, for one thing.” Edward patiently tugs his arms apart and snuggles into Oswald’s lap, and in spite of himself, Oswald feels himself thawing out. “I thought you’d come in all, you know, suave and cool like you always do. Like, just acting like nothing was wrong and daring anyone who didn’t like it to say a word.”

“Oh really.” Oswald tries not to close his arms around Edward. Edward doesn’t deserve a hug right now, damn it. 

“Really. I thought it’d be cute…I thought you’d look hot, but…” Suddenly Edward’s face is buried in Oswald’s neck and, before he can stop himself, Oswald automatically pulls him in a little closer. “I just wanted to see you in it,” he murmurs, words muffled in Oswald’s skin, “and I didn’t think you’d wear it if I asked, so…”

“So you tricked me into wearing it?”

“Yeah, and it’s not as sexy or as fun if it makes you feel bad.” Edward pulls back so he can see Oswald’s face as he says matter-of-factly, “I only like making _other_ people feel bad. Preferably right before I stab them. I don’t like making _you_ feel bad.”

Before Oswald can reply he feels a pair of warm hands gliding over the plump swell of his belly. He can’t help but squirm a little; it feels so good even if he’s still cringing with embarrassment. “I didn’t want them all to see me like that,” he tells Edward, his words significantly undercut by the soft moan of pleasure that escapes when Edward leans down and kisses his stomach.

“I’m sorry.” And there’s something that would kill the Batman if he heard it: _the Riddler,_ actually _apologizing?_ The damn Bat would die of shock if he knew.

“It’s okay. Just…just ask next time, okay? I’ll—ooh—I’ll wear whatever you want, baby. But only when it’s just us.”

“Okay.” Edward nuzzles his cheek against Oswald’s belly. Oswald lets out another involuntary whimper of pleasure as he feels his boyfriend’s soft lips against the vulnerable skin. “Let me make it up to you?” Edward suggests, looking innocently up at Oswald through his lashes.

Oswald can’t help but smile. He knows it’s pointless to try and resist at this point. “Well. If you insist.”


End file.
